Review: The Funk Can’t Be Faked; The Sorrow Can’t Be Borrowed: Urban Heat at Cold Waves

The 12th annual Cold Waves festival once again took over Cabaret Metro this past weekend to teleport attendees back to a time when black leather was abundant and WaxTrax! Records was in its prime. From industrial, to synth pop, to darkwave, Cold Waves stands as a living chronology of one of pop culture’s most enduring and iconic aesthetics. A breathing museum of avant-garde haircuts and shades of black. Despite decades of misguided imitation of what goth looks like, Cold Waves serves to remind the masses what goth sounds like. You can’t fake the funk and the sorrow can’t be borrowed. I tucked my black t-shirt into my black cargo pants and laced up the Doc Martens this past Friday to check out Austin, Texas, upstarts Urban Heat.

Urban Heat’s 2024 sophomore release The Tower makes good on the weeping promise of their 2022 debut Wellness. Incorporating equally the theatrical melodrama of The Cure, the darker-than-night dance-pop of Depeche Mode, and the serrated electronic edge of KMFDM, The Tower finds Urban Heat exploring every corner of the goth-rock landscape and evolving past their 80’s worship roots into something much more unpredictable and multi-dimensional.

The set began with Wellness opener “Trust,” an appropriate introduction into both the band’s translucent dance-pop sensibilities and smoke-filled rock foundation, before launching into The Tower opener “Take It To Your Grave.” It was at this point that singer/guitarist Jonathan Horstmann ditched both the guitar and his shirt, displaying his well-toned and heavily tattooed torso. This prompted an ”oh my GOD” from a woman standing near me and honestly I couldn’t blame her. Like many great goth bandleaders, Horstmann’s eccentric pageantry is evocative of sex despite a lack of any explicit suggestiveness. It is the sexuality of a shared secret, the sexuality that is implicit in undying, prostrating romance. "Sanitizer" was next, a drum-machine driven dance number that cleverly frames emotional conflict through medical metaphor; “It’s open-heart surgery there’s nothing wrong with it, but your operating table needs a sanitizer hit.”

One shining highlight of the set was “Right Time of Night,” a synth-heavy vampirism anthem that shows off Urban Heat’s shadowy multiplicity. Morphing from up-tempo goth-pop (featuring some of their most interesting and kinetic production) into the heaviest guitar track in their catalog. This transition live was executed perfectly, as Horstmann grabs his guitar at the last second to deliver the crushing, distorted outro. This track sees Urban Heat reveling in the horror-movie camp sensibilities associated with much of the genre, proclaiming “I’ve got a history of violence/And a vision of love/this time I cannot deny myself/I’ve got a thirst for the blood.”

My only personal complaint about the set was the lack of inclusion of more left-field album cuts like “Savor Not The Thrill,” or “Addicted to the Sounds,” in favor of more popular tracks such as “Goodbye Horses,” and “A Simple Love Song,” though given their 30 minute time slot I can hardly blame them; making this a declaration of personal taste rather than an actual criticism of the performance. The heart-bursting melody of “Goodbye Horses,” as well as the DEVO/Talking Heads reminiscent post-punk of “A Simple Love Song” translated even better live than on record, and helped to provide a holistic view of the band’s sound. From his graceful stride back and forth across the stage to holding the mic stand completely upside down, Horstmann radiated dark charisma and passionate showmanship, and Urban Heat proved to be a highlight of Cold Waves. In a scene with a whole lot of counterfeits, this is the real.

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Aviv Hart